


One Loves The Sunset When One Is So Sad

by SpecificGeneral



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blind Date, Happy Ending, M/M, Meeting the Parents, New Year's Eve, Niall is famous and addicted to Christmas, Or not, Photographer Harry, Pining, Pre-Christmas Fluff and Angst, Songwriter Louis, That's kind of the Problem, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecificGeneral/pseuds/SpecificGeneral
Summary: 'What's your New Year's resolution then?' Pretty Guy asks, still smiling.To get to know you.  'It's a secret.' Harry answers and the crinkles appear again.'Five, four, three...'They are just looking at each other now. Faces close enough to feel the other’s breath.'Two, one...'Harry closes his eyes.OrHarry is D'artagnan with a crush. Louis just needs time. Niall is an over-excited Christmas elf, sort of. Gemma is the most annoying matchmaker ever and Liam is there too.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/gifts).



> lucdarling, I hope you enjoy this and don't mind that I've adjusted the prompt a little :)
> 
> The biggest thank you to Chelsea for being the best beta (and the bestest twin I've ever had) and to Franny for being my personal cheerleader ♥

**8** **th** **of December 2016**

 

'I just don't think it's a good idea,' Harry sighs into the phone, trying to think of a reason why he really has to hang up now.

 

It's not like Gemma would actually accept one of his lame excuses, so he dismisses the idea in favour of picking at the crumbs of the half eaten chocolate chip muffin Liam left on the kitchen counter. The tea Harry prepared himself is long gone cold in his favourite _The Little Prince_ mug and cold tea won’t help to lighten his mood.

 

His gaze drifts to the window. It's snowing for the first time this winter. Thick flakes are driving from a heavy sky and while he usually loves snow, loves how it conjures up a cosy Christmassy atmosphere that makes Harry want to bake gingerbread and listen to all the cheesy Christmas songs on his _Winter Wonderland_ Spotify playlist, this year the snow just looks grey and cold and uninviting, like a reminder of how miserable he's been for the past. . . nine days and sixteen hours to be exact.

 

'Well, I think it is one of the best ideas I've ever had,' Gemma counters. Harry listens to his sister rummaging in what must be the kitchen cupboard because a few seconds later he hears the sound of a bag of biscuits being opened. 'If not _the_ best. Someone needs to get you out of this unbearable pre-Christmas depression and who's better than a hot date that is also exactly your type?' Gemma asks, chewing loudly.  

 

Harry hums non-committally, hoping it’s enough for Gemma to drop the topic and talk about fashion or whatever awesome thing her new best friend did at work today. Although Gemma's new bestie, whose name he can't remember to save his life, is the reason Harry is caught in this unpleasant conversation in the first place. Or her brother, more like, the hot date that is the apparent solution to all his problems. At least that's what Gemma seems to think. Not that she knows about his problems in the first place.

 

'Is that a yes?' Gemma asks.

 

'No, it's not a yes.' Harry says, fiddling with the simple brown bracelet on his wrist. It's not exactly pretty anymore, but the worn-out leather has sentimental value to him. 'I'm just really not in the mood.'

 

Gemma huffs. 'You _keep_ saying that but I already told you that this date is the attempt to get you out of that pissy mood you've been stuck in for weeks now.'

 

 _Not weeks, nine days and sixteen hours,_ Harry thinks to himself grumpily.

 

'Look, if you're concerned that you won't think he's cute, then we forget the whole blind date idea and I’ll get you a pic beforehand. But I can guarantee you'll find him incredibly hot and charming. I saw some pictures on C's phone and he has the best eyes I've ever seen on a dude. And _I_ work in fashion.'

 

Harry doubts that this guy has the best eyes because those belong to someone else, but he's not silly enough to loudly disagree with his sister. His objection would definitely cause Gemma to ask questions that Harry is not ready to answer.

 

He opts for another inexpressive 'hmmm' instead. He should just straight up tell her what’s going on but he isn’t ready to talk about it. There’s too much pain surrounding the actual reason he doesn’t want to go on a date.

 

It’s all fucked up.

 

'So, should I get you a pic?' Gemma presses.

  
'No? I don't know, Gems. I don't think I have time for a date right now... Actually, I got this new job and the client seems to be very demanding.' Ha! Work related stress might actually be a great reason to refuse.

 

Before Harry can complete his mental high five, Gemma snorts. 'You work as a fashion photographer, H. All your clients are difficult and demanding if you let them be. You're telling me that you don't have a few minutes to go for a coffee with a beautiful gay man as a favour for your favourite sibling and, more importantly, for yourself?'

 

'You're my only sibling.' _Sadly._ Harry thinks because right now he would be happy to have an older brother who wouldn't be as invested in Harry's love life as his sister. His whole family is nosy. Except for Robin maybe. Harry wishes it was Robin on the phone right now.

 

'Details. _So_?' Gemma is still loudly chewing on biscuits and he's about to snap at her.

 

Everything is just frustrating and sad and all Harry wants to do is curl up in his bed and watch reruns of _Friends._ And maybe eat Pizza. Yeah, he should order Pizza.

 

He must have been lost in deep thought because he startles when he hears his sister's voice again. 'Are you still there, H?'

 

'Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.' Harry says.

 

'About where to go for your date?'

  
'Do you even know how annoying you are?' Harry spits out, his irritation evident in his harsh tone. He gets up from his stool at the kitchen counter and stretches his stiff limbs. All Harry has done since he woke up at eleven is answer two work emails and take a well-needed shower. He's exhausted. Being sad is exhausting.

 

There’s a short pause before Gemma responds. 'I'm aware you are not exactly fond of me right now, but I'm counting on being forgiven as soon as you'll meet your soulmate over coffee. Shall we say Monday around five?'

  
_Soulmate. As if._

  
Harry sighs audibly. He’s pretty sure Gemma won’t let this go until he agrees or finally cracks and tells her what’s going on. So Harry does what he has to do.

 

'Okay. But just one coffee. And I decide on the place.' He feels like a defeated warrior. It doesn’t have to be an actual date though. Harry will look at it as a favour for his sister. A bit of socialising. Nothing more.

  
' _Yes!_ You won't regret it, H.' Gemma sounds awfully smug.

  
She seems to be satisfied with the outcome of her persuasions because soon after she changes the topic to something work related while Harry puts on the kettle in order to prepare another tea.

  
He patiently listens to her story about some new colleague called Richie, which according to Gemma is 'the name of a twat', while he orders a pizza online.

 

Gemma is so furious about a slightly misogynistic comment Richie made about her make-up kit that Harry can't help the tiny chuckle that escapes his mouth. It might be the first thing close to a laugh since... Yeah, since.

 

Shortly after he ends the call – finally! – the doorbell rings to signal the arrival of his pizza. Harry pays the delivery boy and kicks the front door shut. He wanders through the living room, stopping at the kitchen island to get the pizza cutter and another freshly prepared cup of tea and enters his room.

 

It's still snowing outside. The snow still looks nothing but grey and hopeless so he draws his cream-coloured curtains although it's not even five yet.

  
While loading some episodes of _Friends,_ he checks his emails for a response from a potential client and distractedly clicks on the Facebook symbol on his bookmarks bar.

  
_Fuck._

  
There he is.

  
It's a black and white picture and the main focus isn't even on him, but there he is. He's sitting on a window sill looking out of the window absently strumming the guitar and he's just beautiful. He really is. And he looks peaceful. Almost like everything is fine.

  
Harry suddenly feels a big lump in his throat and tears welling up in his eyes.

  
Nothing is fine.

  
And then he's crying. The unbearable combination of deep sadness and anger washes over him. Everything is just so messy and complicated.

  
Harry wants to call him but he knows he won't pick up.

  
He looks back at the screen just to see him again. Maybe he should like the picture. A Julian posted it. Who is Julian?

  
Irrational jealousy joins sadness and anger and Harry closes the laptop with a lot more force than necessary. He throws himself down, face in his pillow and tries to wipe away the tears running down his face.

  
His eyes land on his mug and he reads the written words next to the prince’s head, 'It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.' _It really is. It's also a really lonely place._

  
He turns off the light and closes his eyes.

 

...

 

**One year earlier...**

   
**31** **th** **of December 2015**

  
Louis is woken up by a loud clatter somewhere in his flat.

  
' _Fuck_. Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker.' There is more rustling and then a cry that sounds very much like a sad donkey and Louis knows what he's talking about because he saw an actual donkey crying at a petting zoo once.

  
' _No_. Fucking Rudolph. Fucking Fuck. _Fuck._ ' The donkey cries and the curses continue and Louis could punch himself for not closing the door to his room after he came back from taking a shower earlier. He groans and tries to muffle the disturbing sounds by hiding his head under the blanket. Hiding under the covers does have the inconvenient side effect causing the air to get stuffy though, so after two minutes of ignoring the fact that his lungs could use some more oxygen, he throws the blanket off his body and gets up.

 

The room is freezing. He quickly puts on a grey cable knit sweater, his speckle socks and some sweats and shuffles into the living room.

 

The sight that greets him is ridiculous. Niall had gone a little overboard with the Christmas décor this year because for the first time Louis didn't have the energy to stop him. So he knew about the second Christmas tree – 'It makes perfect sense. We're two people, Tommo,’ but it seems like Niall didn't think two trees were festive enough because it looks like the John Lewis Christmas department has exploded in their flat after Louis departed to Doncaster for the holidays.

 

There is a giant bowl with fairy lights and glitter balls on the coffee table right next to the big Christmas themed flower arrangement Niall's mother Maura sends every year.

 

Niall also covered Louis' _The Stone Roses_ poster with a slightly scary looking picture of Santa in his sleigh. Next to scary Santa hang their homemade advent calendars – Louis' is a joint effort of his little sisters so it's basically a big chunk of glue, gold glitter and pink feathers while Niall's looks like something Martha Stuart designed.

 

A golden brocade tablecloth is covering the counter of their open kitchen and Niall replaced their fluffy grey rug with a red and white reindeer carpet.

 

Wait, is that a life-sized cardboard snowman?

 

'What the fuck?' How did Louis not notice all of this last night?

 

The donkey that is Niall startles from his kneeling position on the hardwood floor. He's surrounded by several colourful bags and a giant box. He's still in his dark blue winter coat, dark brown boots and an oversized grey scarf that Louis's pretty sure is his.

 

Louis walks closer. The ceramic shards in the opened carton box are probably the reason for the donkey noises Niall was making just now.

 

'Tommo! You're here!' Niall exclaims happily after he recovers from his momentary confusion about not being the only person in the flat anymore. 'When did ya get back?'

 

'Last night. Went straight to bed.' Louis shrugs. That's probably the reason as to why he didn't notice all the Christmas stuff.

 

Niall gets up from the floor and embraces Louis in an enthusiastic hug. “Missed ya, mate. Happy belated birthmas.'

 

Louis throws his weight into the hug and murmurs a 'thanks. Missed you too, Nialler' into his best friend’s shoulder, which smells like coffee, snow and cinnamon. It's good to be home. Niall sways them back and forth for a while – he really is a human cuddle toy – until he finally releases Louis with a pat on his bum.

 

'Why are you back though? I thought you were gonna spend New Year’s Eve in Donny with the fam this year?' Niall asks while walking over to the fridge. There are magnets shaped like angels and Christmas trees on the fridge that Louis notices for the first time.

 

Louis sits down on a stool next to the counter shrugs helplessly. 'I just thought I'd like to spend time with my best mate,’ he says, but it falls a little flat.

 

The truth is that Louis' mother basically dragged him to the train station after Louis offered to babysit both sets of twins so she and Dan could go out for New Year’s Eve. Usually his mother would take him up on such a generous offer, but apparently Louis didn't sell the 'I'm okay and not at all heartbroken' act well enough. She can still read him better than anyone. Damnit.

 

'Lou bear, I know that you're sad that it didn't work out and I'm sad too. And you know that you're always welcome here, but you haven't left the house since you got to Donny and that was eight days ago. I just think that you should go out and take your mind off Sam and the break up for a bit. Go out with Niall. Let loose.' Louis may or may not have shed some tears over his mother's words and let himself cuddle in her arms like he was still a toddler.

 

So that's the actual reason he's back in London. He's apparently a horrible actor and his mother wants him to go out to get drunk and laid. Or something like that. Louis wants to eat crisps and watch TV.

 

Niall looks at him suspiciously. 'I really wonder why Jay didn't text me that you'd be back.'

  
If he's honest, Louis really wonders that too as Niall and his mother text on a regular basis. Yes, his best mate and his mother are friends. It was kind of disturbing at first but Louis got used to it over the years. They exchange cooking recipes, unfortunately gossip about most aspects of Louis' life and have a shared love for musicals. When Jay visited Louis with Doris and Ernie over the summer she and Niall went to see _Mamma Mia_ – and also got very drunk on mojitos – while Louis entertained the baby twins with his fabulous big brother skills.

 

Niall takes out the milk from the fridge. 'I'm making cocoa,' he announces. 'With cinnamon. Obviously.'

 

'Obviously.' Louis echoes. His gaze wanders over to the window. Is that snow on the window sill? He turns to Niall, who is engrossed in his phone, and asks him exactly that.

 

Niall looks up from the screen and over to the window. 'Oh yeah, it's artificial snow. Ordered it online. Looks sick, doesn't it? By the way, Jay _did_ text me. Must have overlooked it.' He types something into his phone and puts it on the golden tablecloth.

 

He places a cup of hot cocoa in front of Louis and spreads some cinnamon on top. 'So, we're going out tonight then? Like the two musketeers?' Niall looks like a man on a mission, or an excited duckling on a mission.

 

Louis rolls his eyes. _Thanks, mum._

 

'It's the three musketeers. If you count d'Artagnan, four.' Louis takes a sip from his cocoa. Niall is right. Cinnamon does make everything taste Christmassy.

 

'Yeah, whatever. Like Thelma and Louise then. You're Louise. for obvious reasons. It's going to be legendary anyway.'

 

Louis sighs. He sure does love Susan Sarandon. And Niall. But still. 'I don't know man. I was hoping we could stay in and order Thai or something?'

 

Niall looks at him incredulously. 'Who _are_ you? The boring identical twin of my best mate? We are in our twenties and you want to stay in on fucking New Year’s Eve? Yeah, I don't think so. We need to get you wasted and preferably laid. Fuck Sam and his pretentious Lennon glasses. He's not going to ruin your night.'

 

Louis looks down at his hands. Sam's glasses _do_ look stupid. He would still prefer to stay at home and wallow in self-pity.

 

That's apparently not an option though. It's not like he has any choice when Niall and his mother team up against him. And they are right. Since the breakup, Louis mutated into a pitiful version of himself he really can't stand. It's not like he needed Niall or his mother to make him notice but it's just not easy to forget and move on.

 

'Where would we even go?' Louis asks and the biggest grin spreads on Niall's face like this innocent question is a promise to go already. It probably is. Louis is not exactly emotional stable and it's really hard to say no to his best friend.

 

'Greg's.' Niall replies like it's the most obvious answer. It's not. Louis doesn't even know a Greg. He says as much to Niall.

 

'Greg James. Radio 1 DJ. Tall, nice, a very funny guy. He got you a drink at James' birthday and blatantly tried to flirt with you while you were too plastered to notice. It was hilarious.' Niall cackles.

 

Louis vaguely remembers an encounter with a guy who fits that description even if he doesn't remember a lot about James Corden's birthday. He blames it on the tequila.

 

'Okay, fine.' Niall raises his arms, cheering. He rounds the kitchen counter – almost brings down the golden tablecloth with him – and smacks a wet kiss to Louis' cheek.

 

'You won't regret it, mate! And if you really hate it we can still go back and do the things you are so passionate about these days. Like sleeping or watching TV or eating crisps or being grumpy. Anything you want really.'

 

Niall's enthusiasm is enough for the two of them and although Louis was really looking forward to a night on the couch with Niall's Christmas popcorn, it might feel okay to actually leave the house for something other than work or food for once.

 

'First, you gotta help me with the bags though.' Niall gestures to the muddle of bags on the floor. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Louis a little guiltily. 'You know, there was this big sale at Harrods. Seventy percent off on all of the Christmas stuff, can you believe? Rudolph didn't make it though. He was fucking gorgeous. I tell ya.' Niall looks into the carton box with sad, mournful eyes and Louis knows better than to ask.

 

**...**

 

Louis looks at himself in the mirror leaning against the wall of his bedroom and inspects his outfit. Niall picked it because he wasn't satisfied with Louis' choice. Wearing a hoodie to a New Year's Eve party was probably not the brightest idea he's ever had. Now Louis is dressed in his tightest black skinnies, the ones that make his ass look extra good, a black sheer t-shirt and a tight burgundy blazer. His feet are sock-less and in black patent brogues.

 

He should probably shave since he hasn't since his birthday, but the scruffy face will have to do for tonight. He's still contemplating if he should change his hair from the sweeping side quiff to fringe when Niall enters his room.

 

Catching Louis' sceptical glance at his own reflection Niall shoves a Corona in his hand and tries for a wolf-whistle that sounds more like a toddler playing the recorder. Niall is a goober. Louis is quite fond of him.

 

'What's with the frown? You look hot. I'd do ya!' Niall states, taking a sip from his own bottle.

 

'Aww Neil, if that doesn't make me the luckiest man in all the land.' Louis looks back in the mirror. He’s definitely looked better, but the blazer does make his shoulders kind of broad and shows off his waist.

 

'Fuck off.' Niall replies, grinning into his beer.

 

After another two Coronas and a shot of what must be the sweetest liqueur Louis' ever tasted – some leftover lychee wine Niall bought amongst many other weird tasting alcohol to impress a girl with his bartender skills – they take a cab to the party.

 

Louis expected the party to be at an extravagant bar or some other fancy venue so he's positively surprised when they arrive at a spacious but cosy looking flat. There are fairy lights everywhere and the place is packed. People greet him and Niall left and right – probably mostly Niall as he's the epitome of a social butterfly and also on the verge of becoming the next big British act (or something like that) – but Louis recognises quite a few familiar faces he met at work appearances or even worked with directly.

 

He greets Julian Bunetta and Jamie Scott, two writers he worked with before and spots James and Ed Sheeran next to a massive table full with all sorts of drinks and snacks. They are joined by a very tall and friendly looking guy. That's probably Greg. When Niall spots them he tugs at Louis' arm and drags him over to the group of men.

 

'Niall! Louis!' James exclaims. Niall jumps into James' arms, while Louis greets Ed with a warm embrace.

 

Ed is a good egg. Louis wrote a couple of songs for his latest album and Ed likes to crash on their sofa after a night out in Louis' favourite pub around the corner of their flat. Ed is also part of what Niall likes to call their 'Illustrious Gentleman's Club', which is a fancy name for hanging around Niall's and Louis' flat drinking beer, smoking pot and fighting over what film to watch until Niall decides it's time for NeverEnding Story... again. It's Niall's all-time-favourite film and if Louis is honest, it's in his top five as well so he's secretly pleased with the choice. It's just a really beautiful film, okay? Louis used to dream he was the one riding on Falkor through the sky.

 

'Good to see you, man. It's been forever. How are you?' Ed asks him after Louis got a tight hug from James as well.

 

Louis is about to tell a half-hearted lie about why he avoided everyone but Niall during the past couple of weeks when James claps him on the shoulder and shoves him towards tall guy who's probably Greg.

 

'Louis, you remember Greg from my birthday?' James asks.

 

Greg extends his hand, his eyes friendly. 'Nice to see you again,' he says while shaking Louis' hand and this is actually a bit embarrassing because Louis still can't remember anything but a blurry tall figure in front of him. Did they dance at James' birthday?

 

'Hey man, likewise. Although I have to admit my memories of the party are a bit blurred. Hope I wasn't too annoying?' Louis says.

 

'Nah, mate, you were just fine. Here, let me get you a drink.'

 

Within the next hour Louis has had an impressive number of shots of indefinable liquor Niall pushes into his hands and two cosmopolitans professionally mixed by Greg who turns out to be not only handsome but also really nice and funny – so pretty much what Louis would look for in a guy if he was, in fact, looking and wasn’t dealing with the painful aftermath of a break up. After a few shy attempts at flirting and lingering looks on Louis' lips and exposed collarbones, Greg seems to notice Louis' restraint and wanders off to another group of people standing near the kitchen.

 

Louis feels the pleasant buzz of alcohol in his veins and for the first time in weeks he actually enjoys being around other people than Niall or his family. He dances with Niall and twirls him because he knows how much Niall loves to be twirled when he's drunk – which according to his rosy cheeks and loud laughs he is – before he takes over James' place to dance with his wife Julia while James wanders off to get more drinks with Niall.

 

He and Julia are midway through swaying to a Michael Bublé [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZM-5SYr2Yk) that Louis is pretty sure Niall is responsible for when he feels his phone vibrating in the back pocket of his jeans with an incoming call.

 

He excuses himself from Julia and steps into the less crowded kitchen to take what must be a call from his mother to check on him.

 

When he sees the caller-ID his breath gets caught in his throat. It's not his mother. It's Sam. Sam with the stupid hipster glasses stares right back at him from his mobile screen.

 

Louis doesn't have time to weigh if he should answer his phone or not because as soon as the phone is in his hand the display darkens and all that is left is a missed call. A missed call from Sam.

 

_Fuck._

 

Just when he forgot about the whole disaster that was his last relationship and actually had fun with his mates for a change, his ex-boyfriend has the nerve to call and fucking ruin his night.

 

 _Fucking great._ Louis needs a smoke.

 

He takes out the cigarettes he had stored in the inside pocket of his blazer earlier and steps out on the small balcony attached to the kitchen. It's empty except for a cosy-looking bench as most of the other guests are still inside or on the bigger terrace connected to the living area.

 

It's still snowing lightly. Most of the Christmas decorations people put in their windows or on their balconies are still up and make the white masses outside appear in a warm glow. Louis notices that it actually is pretty warm outside. Greg set up a gas heater next to the bench. He sits down and lights up a cigarette.

 

It's funny. Just yesterday he lay in his mother's arms and cried over Sam but right now all he feels his anger and frustration. He's angry that Sam called when he was (for a moment) not thinking about him and he's angry that Sam apparently thought it was a good idea to call when literally everything between them had been said. Louis is also angry that he still cares so much.

 

He leans back against the backrest and looks back at his phone that still rests in his left hand. Louis scrolls through his contacts till the letter S and stares at Sam's name. He clicks on it and there it is again. The picture that lightened up Louis' screen just two minutes ago.

 

Before he can cop out he clicks on the small rubbish bin symbol on the bottom of the screen. Deleted. Louis just deleted his ex-boyfriends number. It feels kind of good. Not only kind of good but really good. Like he can finally breathe again, which maybe is a little weird considering he's currently not doing any favours to his lungs.

 

Louis takes another drag, pockets his phone and looks up in the sky. It's not clear and there are no stars visible. The sky still looks incredibly beautiful right at this moment.

 

He should probably head back inside soon and look for Niall, Ed and James. Maybe have another drink – he sure feels a lot more sober than he did on the dance floor in the middle of Greg's living room.

 

It's just that the silence of the night has kind of a calming effect on Louis. He could probably get away with another few minutes without having someone look for him so he takes one of the blankets that are laying next to him on the bench and puts it over his lower body.

 

Just when he's exhaling the smoke of the last drag of his cigarette, the door opens.

 

**...**

 

Harry is drunk. Not incredibly so but drunk enough to stumble over his own feet in Greg's kitchen.

 

He lost Liam somewhere on his way from the living room to the loo, which is not that surprising considering this place is packed. _How many people were invited to this party?_ And Nick is making out with a ginger haired guy Harry has never seen before against the giant mirror in the hallway.

 

It doesn't matter that he's suddenly on his own. It's not like Harry has any problems making new friends. He's charming. And he has dimples. Harry has no idea what his dimples have to do with making friends easily, but that's what his mother always says. Does this mean he has social dimples? Harry pokes into his cheek where the dimple normally appears. Nothing. It's not there. His social dimple is missing.

 

Harry looks around the kitchen and takes a sip of his drink. It's very fruity and pink.

 

There are quite a few potential new acquaintances. At least a dozen laughing, possibly intoxicated people standing around in small groups drinking and smoking.

 

The only problem with actually approaching one of the strangers and talking to them – aside from the apparent missing dimple – is that Harry feels quite dizzy. The vodka shots Nick made him drink before they came here probably weren't that great of an idea.

 

It's also incredibly hot in here. Maybe he should take off his shirt?

 

That might come across weird though so Harry settles for taking another sip from his pink drink and letting his eyes wander around the place again.

 

There is a glass door, probably leading to a balcony or another terrace and yeah, that might be a good idea. Some fresh air will make the dizziness go away.

 

So Harry walks over to the door – it's really more staggering than walking and it earns him an amused look and a wink from one of the strangers – and pushes the handle downwards. He steps outside – again it's more of a stumble – and feels the cold air on his hot cheeks.

 

There is a guy.

 

There is a guy on the balcony sitting on a bench looking at him.

 

And although the door is still opened suddenly Harry can't hear the music or the laughter from the party any more.

 

Because this guy is stunning. Mind-blowingly so. So what if Harry is drunk and maybe he tends to exaggerate, but the guy really is beautiful. He's got brown hair that is artfully styled into some sort of quiff and his thin pink lips and his jawline are framed with soft looking stubble. He looks a bit like an untamed lion, but at the same time incredibly delicate.

 

He's looking at Harry with curious yet somehow wary eyes and all Harry wants to do is keep watching the strangers face – or maybe touch it.

 

That wouldn't exactly be appropriate though so Harry settles for taking a careful step forward and giving an awkward wave.

 

'Um. Hi.' He says while his eyes never leave the guys face.

 

'Hi.' The stranger answers with a tiny quirk of his mouth.

 

He's still looking at Harry and it's not scary or unpleasant, but maybe a bit intimidating. Because this guy is gorgeous and Harry's cheeks are probably flushed and his hair is most definitely a sweaty mess so he self-consciously tucks an extra springy curl behind his ear.

 

He takes another step forward not really sure what to do or say next because apparently he is not as good at socialising as he thought he is.

 

'So. Um. Did you want to be alone? Or do you mind if I stay here for a bit. It's... Um...' Harry blurts out, trying to think of a way to finish this mess of a conversation opener. 'It's... It's not a problem if you wanted to be alone. I just thought that... It's just really hot in there and I would take off my shirt, but that seems inappropriate and I wouldn't want to be rude so yeah, I thought I just get some fresh air for a bit but I could totally go back inside if you wanted me to.'

 

 _Wow_. He sounds like his fifteen-year-old self trying to flirt with Gemma's friend Brian, who wasn't even interested in guys and especially not in awkward teenagers. Maybe Harry should just go back inside and look for Liam.

 

He doesn't want to leave though so he glances back to the guy who's still looking at him his brows now furrowed as if he's giving Harry's question some serious thought.

 

Then he chuckles. 'No worries, mate. Wouldn't want you to melt in there.'

 

He pats the bench next to him so Harry takes another three steps forward and sits down.

 

Up close the guy is even prettier – if that's possible. He's not looking at Harry any more but at the sky above them, a small smile on his lips, so Harry studies his profile. His nose is cute. Harry wants to bop it. He doesn't. Of course not. Instead he keeps watching pretty guys profile thinking that he must be a model or maybe an actor. Maybe a theatre actor. Harry would like to watch him on stage.

 

'Are you an actor?' He asks because his brain-to-mouth filter doesn't work when he's intoxicated and confronted with pretty men.

 

The guy's head snaps to Harry and he looks amused. 'What makes you think that?' He asks and Harry feels his cheeks redden. He hopes it's not visible in the dimmed light of the lanterns Greg put outside.

 

'You look like one.' Harry shrugs, aiming for casual.

 

Pretty Guy laughs. It's a high raspy and laugh just like his voice. It makes Harry feel warm all over. There are crinkles by his eyes. Fucking crinkles. And Harry can barely hold himself back touching them. He should definitely stop drinking if he doesn't want embarrass himself any further so he puts his drink on the small coffee table in front of the bench.

 

'No, I'm not. Are _you_ one?' Pretty Guy asks. Harry shakes his head, smiling sheepishly.

 

The guy puts a cigarette between his very kissable looking lips and lights it before offering one to Harry. Harry takes a cigarette although he doesn't smoke – aside from the occasional joint he likes to share with Liam while talking about the meaning of life and boys, or girls in Liam's case – and tucks it behind his ear.

 

'For later,' he says and that makes Pretty Guy laugh again. Harry likes to make him laugh.

 

' _Okay_.' He says still smiling and looks back up to the sky. It seems like Pretty Guy is not really interested in small talk so Harry leans back against the backrest and mimics him.

 

They sit in comfortable silence for what feels like hours. Harry is not sure if it's his brain messing with him – probably – or if it is actually hours of not talking and watching the sky while his arm occasionally brushes Pretty Guy's arm making him feel equally excited and warm. At some point Pretty Guy offers him another cigarette and Harry takes it and tucks it behind his other ear. Pretty Guy giggles, actually giggles at that. He lifts up the blanket that covers his legs and feet and makes a motion for Harry to get under it too.

 

It should be weird – just sitting and watching a starless sky with a stranger sharing a blanket – but it's not. It's nice. So nice that Harry almost forgets about where they are. It doesn't feel like they are at a party. It almost feels like a date.

 

That is until the glass door is slammed open by a very drunk and angry looking woman who is most definitely looking for someone. Her eyes are searching till they land on Harry and the guy. With no word and a frown on her face the woman shuts the door again and disappears.

 

Harry turns to look at the stranger and there they are again. The crinkles.

 

'Well, that was a bit scary.' Pretty Guy chuckles.

 

'She was probably looking for her New Year’s Kiss.' Harry suggests and takes in the guys' smile. He really is beautiful.

 

'Guess we didn't make the cut.' Pretty Guy says and his laugh dies down. 'It's a stupid tradition anyway, isn't it?' He gestures vaguely. It doesn't really sound like a question and before Harry can say something Pretty Guy continues.

 

'See,' He says turning his whole body towards Harry now. 'If you are in a relationship and you and your partner spend New Year’s Eve together it's an okay tradition, I guess, ‘cause you get to kiss the person you want to, but it's also unnecessary because you get to kiss them any other day and any other time anyway. For someone who can't be with their partner on New Year’s Eve, for whatever reason, though it's a reminder that they indeed have to spend it apart.

 

And for everybody else it's just stress. If you're lucky enough to find someone it's either awkward or unromantic or forced and you are probably both too drunk to remember the next day anyway.'

 

It's the most Pretty Guy has spoken since Harry walked out on the balcony and Harry is just fascinated with the way he talks with his whole body, arms gesticulating wildly, his face so expressive.

 

'And if you don't find someone,' Pretty Guy says. 'You are reminded that you are indeed single and probably end up snogging your best mate who's basically your brother so it's not really a pleasant experience.'

 

The way he said it very much sounds like Pretty Guy's experienced this first hand and Harry really hopes so because that would imply that Pretty Guy is not straight and maybe even single.

 

'I just think it's stupid that there is pressure to have that kiss when the outcome is usually less than memorable.' Pretty Guy argues.

 

'It can be though. Like, I think it can be hopeful, a New Year’s kiss. It can be memorable, in fact, even if you don't see them ever again. With the right person, of course.' Harry says, chewing on his bottom lip.

 

Pretty Guy watches him with thoughtful eyes before he reaches for one of the loose curls hanging in Harry's face and gently tugs at it. 'Springy.' He comments before tucking it behind Harry's ear.

 

'You are a romantic at heart, aren't you, Curly?' Pretty Guy asks while watching Harry with a smile on his lips.

 

 _Curly_.

 

Harry can't help but smile widely at the nickname. 'Yeah, I guess so.'

 

'Hey! You've got dimples!' Pretty Guy sounds amazed by the fact that Harry's dimples apparently decided to make a reappearance.

 

'I do.' He nods, grinning even wider. 'They're social.'

 

'Oh, I bet they are.' Pretty Guy laughs and pokes his forefinger into Harry's right dimple.

 

Suddenly there are loud noises – even louder than the music – from inside the flat and Harry is not sure if they were there all along or if he is just noticing them now, too caught up in Pretty Guy's eyes and smile and laugh and pretty much everything about him.

 

'Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen...' It's people counting down. It's people counting down? It can't be midnight already?

 

Pretty Guy looks just as amazed as Harry feels.

 

'Oh,' he says. 'Must have lost track of the time.'

 

'Yeah, me too.' Harry murmurs, his face all of a sudden very close to Pretty Guy’s face. His eyes are blue. Harry didn't notice before.

 

'Twelve, eleven, ten...'

 

'What's your New Year's resolution then?' Pretty Guy asks, still smiling.

 

_To get to know you._

 

'It's a secret.' Harry answers and the crinkles appear again.

 

'Five, four, three...'

 

They are just looking at each other now. Faces close enough to feel the other’s breath.

 

'Two, one...'

 

Harry closes his eyes.

 

And then everything stops. He feels the brush of soft lips on his own and he feels like his heart is suddenly dancing, like every molecule in his body is moving and this is definitely not the alcohol in his veins.

 

The kiss is short and gentle, warm and quiet and like no kiss Harry's ever experienced. When he opens his eyes again Pretty Guy is watching him, their faces mere millimeters apart.

 

'Um. I... I thought you said it's a stupid tradition?' Harry whispers a little breathless.

 

There is a small smile on the guy’s lips and something incredibly warm in his blue eyes.

 

'But _you_ don't.'

 

Just when Harry is about to say something or maybe lean in to feel Pretty Guy’s lips on his again, the door opens and a man... No, not _a_ man but James fucking Cordon wearing a pink party hat appears at the door.

 

'There you are mate! We were looking for you everywhere! Ed lost his trousers!' He's clearly not talking to Harry – he is not even sure James Cordon noticed there is someone sitting next to Pretty Guy – as he seems to be rather drunk.

 

And then the warmth beside him is gone because Pretty Guy is pulled up by James Cordon's meaty hands and dragged through the glass door.

 

Harry wants to stop them, ask Pretty Guy to stay or to take Harry with him. Just when he's about to open his mouth to yell 'stop' or something equally unintelligent, Pretty Guy turns around.

 

'Happy New Year, Curly. Hope you manage to keep it,' he says.

 

'Keep what?' Harry asks.

 

'Your resolution.'

 

And then he's gone. Harry doesn't even know his name.

 

**...**

 

 **1** **st** **of January 2016**

 

There is a gingerbread house on the kitchen counter.

 

How the hell did Niall manage to bake and build this thing between last night and this morning? Okay, it's almost noon, but Louis basically had to carry him from the taxi to his bed.

 

'Where did this come from?' He grumbles in the direction of a way-too-chipper Niall who's pouring tea into Louis' unicorn mug. He got it from the older twins for his twenty-second birthday and Niall basically stole it and announced it as his the moment he saw it.

 

'The house?' Niall asks, looking up. There is still toothpaste in the corner of his mouth. Louis is living with an eight year old. 'My mum made it. Brought it with me from Mullingar. It was in my room, but I think it looks lovely with the gold of the tablecloth, don't you think?'

 

Louis is not ready to answer questions like this when he's hungover and not fully awake. He sits down on one of the barstools and takes _his_ mug from Niall. The hot tea scalds his throat a bit but makes him feel better immediately.

 

Niall ignores Louis' theft and happily chatters away about last night's party. Louis listens half-heartedly to his best friend rave about this awesome guy who is 'just the nicest and coolest dude' he met while Louis was 'chain smoking on some deserted balcony' instead of giving Niall the 'New Year’s smooch I deserved' – Niall's words, not his. Definitely not his.

 

His thoughts wander off to his very own New Year’s kiss.

 

That... was something else.

 

If someone had asked Louis yesterday if he was going to look for someone to kiss at midnight he probably would have rolled his eyes and flicked them off. But now, now Louis can't help but think that this kiss, in spite of his dislike for the tradition itself, was probably the most genuine and, at the same time, most unreal kiss he's ever had.

 

Memorable. And hopeful. Just like he said.

 

_Curly._

 

Louis doesn't even know his real name.

 

It sounds weird, but it kind of does make the whole experience even more prefect.

 

Because this wasn't the opening scene to an eternal love story. Louis is not stupid or naive. He knows he's not nearly ready for something new. He knows that deleting Sam's number wasn't closing a chapter to open a new one. It's not that easy.

 

Besides, that wouldn't be fair. Not fair to this curly haired, wide-eyed stranger who stumbled on the balcony with his deep slow voice, his nervous words and his dimples to take Louis' mind of the break up by just sitting next to him, by making him laugh and by being the most endearing drunk Louis' ever met.

 

He smiles at the memory.

 

That's what it is though. A pretty fucking great memory that makes Louis think that there is a good chance he will be ready for something, for someone new eventually.

 

For now it's just him and Niall though and that's good enough. Niall, who's looking at him expectantly over the icing-covered chimney of the gingerbread house.

 

'What?' Louis asks.

 

'Are you even listening to me?' Niall replies while picking candy from between his teeth.

 

'Sure?' Louis knows that Niall knows he wasn't listening.

 

'Can you get dressed then? I told him we'd be there around two and it's still snowing. We need to get going. Fucking icing sugar everywhere!' Niall exclaims excitedly before busying himself with the candy between his teeth again.

 

'Um. Going where?' Louis should start listening to Niall more regularly.

 

'To the studio? Jeez, you really are hungover, aren't you? My poor Grinchy.' He lovingly pats Louis's head and smacks a kiss on his right cheek before walking off in the direction of his room. 'Get dressed and brush your teeth. I don't want to scare them away with your morning breath.' Before Louis can reply something equally insulting – because Louis' breath is just fine, thank you very much – the door to Niall's bedroom closes shut. A few seconds later he hears Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite start playing in the distance.

 

Louis sighs. He still doesn't know who exactly Niall is talking about, but he gets up from the barstool and shuffles through the living area into his bedroom to get dressed anyway. It's not like has anything better to do.

 

A bit of studio and writing time actually does sound good.

 

Last night was eventful enough to inspire him.

 

...

 

Harry is dehydrated and tired. The former mostly because he didn't stop drinking the delicious colourful drinks last night. He takes another big sip of his water bottle and leans his head against the car window.

 

Next to him Liam hums quietly to the music playing from his iPhone while manoeuvring the car through the covered in snow streets of London.

 

'I really don't get why you want me to come so badly, Li. It's not like I'm a musician or a writer or something.' Harry sighs. He would have very much preferred to stay in bed all day to nurse his outrageous hangover and maybe daydream about the nameless stranger he can't stop thinking about ever since they kissed last night. Instead he agreed to join Liam to hang out with Niall Horan and some other dude.

 

Liam turns his head to glance at him before returning his eyes back to the road. 'But you are my best friend. And he's bringing his best mate, too, and it will be fun. Promise.' Liam gives him another one of his totally unnecessary pleading looks – damn his puppy eyes – because it's not like Harry will jump out of the car and walk home now.

 

They arrive at the studio shortly after. Liam parks the car near the entrance and Harry has to admit that he is kind of curious – and slightly nervous – to meet Niall Horan. He seems like a good guy from what Harry saw of him in interviews and if Liam is not lying, he's 'funny as fuck and so incredibly cool', too. This morning Liam couldn't stop talking about his new friend he apparently made while Harry was busy falling for the most gorgeous man ever on Greg's balcony.

 

'There you are mate!' The lift doors slide open and a very happy looking Niall Horan nearly jumps into Liam's arms, which _okay_. It seems like Liam didn't exaggerate when describing Niall as a 'ball of pure sunshine'.

 

Liam enthusiastically hugs Niall back and it looks a bit like two excited baby animals cuddling. Liam is a puppy obviously. Niall might be a duckling. Harry kind of wants to get hugged by the both of them.

 

'And you must be Harry?' Niall asks no less excited and maybe that's just a Niall thing and not a Niall with Liam thing. Harry likes Niall. Niall gives good hugs. They are warm and firm and Harry doesn't question his decision to join Liam any more.

 

'Good to finally meet you man. I like your hair.' Niall says. 'You were missing last night! This one,' he points to Liam, 'was looking for you everywhere. But we were one man down too ‘cause my best mate was hiding God-knows-where so Liam fit right in.' Niall happily explains while leading Liam and Harry to a big oak door at the end of the hallway.

 

Niall opens the door to reveal a spacious room with a dark wooden floor and unplastered walls of red bricks. There is a ton of equipment – mixer units, microphones and various instruments – littering a battered Persian carpets. In front of the big windows, his back to them, Harry catches a glimpse of...

 

_That can't be..._

 

'Tommo! We're here.' Niall calls.

 

_Tommo._

 

The guy turns around. Fucking hell! It's him. It's Harry's New Year’s Kiss.

 

He looks different today. Even more scruffy but somehow softer. Some of his hair peaks out from under a grey beanie and he’s wearing a dark blue jumper that is slightly too big on him and grey sweats. His feet are stuck in worn out Vans. Harry doesn't know if he wants to hug him or get on his knees for him. Probably both. And kiss. Harry definitely wants to kiss him again. _Fuck._ Harry is fucked.

 

The small smile on the guy's face is replaced with an expression of surprise and maybe shock the second he recognises Harry. And Harry is not sure what to make of it because he's not entirely certain the guy is happy to see him.

 

Maybe he's just overwhelmed. Harry can't blame him. His own knees feel actually a bit weak with how much he feels right now.

 

'Liam, Harry, this is my best mate Louis.' Niall says throwing an arm around Louis' shoulders who is now standing in front of Harry and Liam.

 

_Louis. His name is Louis._

 

'Oh! Um. Hi.' Louis says, his eyes still widened in surprise, but a friendly smile appears on his lips.

 

'Hi.' Harry blurts out not really sure what to do with his hands so he tries to stuff them into the front pockets of his jeans which doesn't really work because they are the tightest pair he owns. Louis watches Harry's embarrassing attempt at appearing casual with an amused expression.

 

He is still looking at Harry when Liam steps forward to shake Louis' hand.

 

'Good to meet you, mate.' He shakes Liam's hand and finally tears his eyes away from Harry.

 

'I hear you're a writer as well? Neil won't shut up about you. If I didn't know better I'd say he's got a crush.' Louis waggles his eyebrows at Niall, who flips him off in return.

 

'I might have a crush. I have to keep my options open if you keep abandoning me, don't I?' Niall says.

 

He tugs at Liam's arm to pull him in the direction of a big table with countless sheets of paper on it. 'Gotta show you what Lou and I were working on.' He says to an awfully excited looking Liam before turning around to face Louis and Harry who still stand in front of each other rather awkwardly, not really sure what to do next.

 

'Why don't you show Harry around a bit, Lou?' Niall suggests before turning around again to apparently make the funniest joke ever judging from Liam's hyena laugh.

 

'Yeah, sure.' Louis says and he seems nervous. 'Come on, I'll show you were all the magic happens, Harry.' He says. 'Meaning where I work while Niall tries to distract me.'

 

'I heard that, you fucker.' Niall shouts from the other side of the room where he's now standing next to the table with Liam.

 

Louis just grins and blows him a kiss.

 

Harry follows Louis to the soundproof booth on the right side of the room. There is a black piano inside the booth and Louis motions for Harry to get through the door. He enters as well and sits down on the stool in front of the piano to look up at Harry expectantly.

 

After some awkward attempts of leaning against the piano which earns him another one of Louis' wonderful crinkly-eyed laughs, Harry decides to take a seat beside him on the stool.

 

Here they are again. Just like last night minus the romantic lights and the snow surrounding them.

 

Harry is awfully aware of how close they are sitting and he is still contemplating if he should 'accidentally' brush Louis' arm with his own when Louis – who was arranging the sheets of music – looks at him again.

 

'Do you play?' He asks Harry.

 

'No. Do you?' Harry asks and of course Louis plays the piano. What kind of question is that? He's a fucking songwriter sitting in front of a piano rearranging sheets of music.

 

'I do.' Louis says and he's still smiling. If Harry's not mistaken Louis looks at him rather fondly which is... That's a good sign, right?

 

'Can you play something?' He asks.

 

Louis nods and puts his fingers on the keys. The first notes of an unfamiliar [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rdAGsAl318) sound and Harry looks up from Louis' delicate hands to his face.

 

Maybe it's just wishful thinking or maybe Harry is just overly dramatic but this feels like a very intimate moment. Like Louis is sharing something really personal with him.

 

His hands slide over the keys effortlessly and Harry wonders what it would feel like to hold Louis' hands in his.

 

When Louis is done he turns to look at Harry again. 'It's going to be a song for Niall. We're working on the lyrics right now.' Louis whispers like it's a secret.

 

'Beautiful.' Harry whispers back and he's not sure if he means the song or Louis. Probably both.

 

Louis smiles a little confused and suddenly their faces are so close again.

 

Just when Harry is about to lean in – because how could he not? – he notices how Louis draws back. His brows are furrowed and he looks uncertain.

 

And _that_ is unsettling – to say the least. It's just that Harry thought, _fuck_ , he doesn't know what he thought but when he saw Louis again today he definitely hoped for _something_.

 

_To get to know you._

 

'I was wondering...' Harry begins just as Louis says. 'Hey, Harry?'

 

They both chuckle awkwardly. Why is this so awkward all of a sudden?

 

'Let me first, yeah?' Louis asks a little breathlessly. All Harry can do is to nod dumbly.

 

'Okay, look. I'm not sure how to say this because I wasn't really prepared to see you again.' Louis takes a deep breath and Harry is not sure he likes where this is going.

 

'Last night was awesome.' Louis continues. Okay, maybe Harry likes where this is going. 'I think... I think you are ridiculously handsome and endearing and funny and kissing you was great and it really made me realise some things. And I'm not sure where you're standing but...'

 

_No no. No but._

 

'But you're looking at me like that. Like, like I'm special and like you want to kiss again and I can't give you that.'

 

_Oh._

 

'Oh.'

 

'Fuck. I'm not really good at this. It's just... that I just got out of a relationship and... and I'm not ready for something new.'

 

_Oh._

 

Louis looks distressed. 'I don't want to assume your intentions but yeah.'

 

There is a bit of a pause where Louis fiddles with the hem of his knitted jumper before he takes another deep breath and looks back at Harry.

 

'I'm not too much for casual either.' He blurts out and he actually blushes.

 

'Um. Okay.' Harry says because he doesn't know what else to say. He's pretty sure his own cheeks are flaming red by now.

 

'Fuck, I'm so bad at this. What I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry if I misinterpreted things or if I led you on or also made you uncomfortable with this conversation. I'm just...'

 

Louis looks so frustrated with himself that Harry feels the urge to comfort him even though he basically just got turned down which is really fucking awful considering he already feels so much, too much for this guy.

 

'Hey, it's okay.' He hears himself saying although Harry is far from okay. He looks down at his own hands which lay motionlessly on his thighs.

 

What did Harry expect though? Some epic love story like in _Titanic_?

 

 _Maybe_. _Minus the death thing obviously._

 

It's just... He feels a shadow of deep disappointment settling heavy on his heart.

 

'Yeah?' Louis asks. Harry can hear the doubt in his voice.

 

'Yeah. I mean I appreciate your honesty.' He says still inspecting his own hands closely. Harry is proud of how calm he sounds. 'I think that's really like, really cool. That you are so straightforward about this.'

 

Hopefully Louis won't notice that Harry is actually not cool with it and will probably eat his weight in cookie dough and wallow in self-pity the minute he gets home.

 

When he dares to finally look up from his hands again he notices how relieved Louis looks. It's just his luck that the first guy he likes in a long time emotionally unavailable.

 

'Okay, cool... Um. So this probably sounds really stupid again and I promise I'm not usually so verbally challenged but... I would really like it if we could be friends?' Louis asks.

 

'I mean it's kind of inevitable anyway, right?' He adds with a nod and a grin to where Niall and Liam are currently imitating what looks like a New Kids on the Block choreography.

 

Harry can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the scene. 'Yeah, I guess so.'

 

'Besides,' Louis continues. 'Niall has been looking for a third musketeer and a d'Artagnan for quite some time now.'

 

'I could be d'Artagnan. I've got the hair for it.' Harry says and it earns him another one of those crinkly eyed laughs Harry is so gone for.

 

If Louis was unattractive or dumb this whole friendship thing he apparently just agreed to would probably be a lot easier.

 

'You do. You're basically destined for the role of d'Artagnan.'

 

'Which musketeer are you then?' Harry asks.

 

'You'll find out.' Louis says with a smile and a wink just when Niall, who's now wearing an elf hat, appears in the door of the booth.

 

'Let's grab food lads. I'm starving.'

 

'For fuck’s sake, Niall, you had breakfast like an hour ago.' Louis groans.

 

'And? What's your point?'

 

Louis seems to consider his answer before he sighs and shrugs. 'I guess I don't have one. I'm too hungover for a witty comeback.'

 

Behind Niall, Liam appears, also wearing an elf hat.

 

'Are you the elf version of Dumb and Dumber then? Louis asks.

 

'Are you the Grinch again, then? Niall retorts.

 

'I like the hats.' Harry says just when Louis replies 'Twat.'

 

'And I like you.' Niall replies with an approving smile in Harry's direction ignoring Louis' comment completely.

 

Besides him Louis gets up. 'You pay and I'll get carried.' He says to Niall while already climbing on his back like he does this at least once a day. He probably does.

 

Harry would carry him everywhere.

 

They walk to the lift, Liam with an arm around Harry's shoulder, Louis on Niall's back. Niall is listing reasons why they should get Chinese while Louis pulls at his ears 'to make them more elf-like' and just like that it's not Harry and Liam or Niall and Louis anymore. It's the three musketeers – with elf hats – and d'Artagnan with a hopeless crush.

 

**...**

 

 **22** **nd** **of March 2016**

 

Their friendship doesn't change everything but it changes a lot.

 

Over the next few months the four of them quickly grew closer, so close that it felt like Louis and Niall where there all along.

 

Where Harry used to find Liam sitting at their dining table pondering over some lyrics on his MacBook, nowadays it's Liam and Louis (and sometimes Niall – if he's not busy doing celebrity stuff) debating over a line that 'just doesn't sound right'. _Or_ most likely, they are just sitting on the sofa playing Fifa and eating pizza.

 

Liam and Louis have bonded over their shared occupation and Harry is surprised just how well they get along. Niall calls them Lilo, which Liam very obviously enjoys while annoying Louis so much that he flips Niall off every time he says it. Liam finds it hilarious. It's just fascinating to watch how Louis, who is so loud and bright and witty, is bringing out Liam's carefree and slightly mischievous side.

 

More than often they also hang out at Niall and Louis' place these days, which is comparatively bigger than Liam's and Harry's flat, and since February, less peppered with Niall's Christmas stuff. It also has a piano and either Louis or Niall play almost constantly.

 

Right now though, Liam and Louis are both sitting on the piano stool, cackling loudly over something on Liam's iPad. Harry can't help but smile fondly at Louis trying to hide his giggles behind delicate hands. How can a person be so cute and so incredibly sexy at the same time?

 

Yeah, that's still a thing. Harry's hopeless crush didn't magically disappear. It just keeps growing. Especially since Louis, who, Harry discovered, doesn't understand the concept of personal space, thinks it's a great idea to constantly demand cuddles or play with Harry's hair.

 

'You like him, don't you?' Niall's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He is standing in front of the open fridge inspecting the Chinese food that – knowing Niall and Louis – has been in there well beyond its expiration date.

 

'Wh... what?' Harry stutters from where he's leaning against the kitchen counter.

 

Niall turns to look at Harry and raises an eyebrow as if to say 'cut the crap. You know what I'm talking about.'

 

'Who?' Harry asks.

 

'My Louis.' Niall says, not blinking, his eyes never leaving Harry's face and Harry is sure he looks like a tomato by now.

 

'Um. You say that like he's your child.' Harry tries for a joke. A lame joke apparently as Niall keeps a straight face. This is a bit disconcerting. Niall is never serious unless, well, unless he talks about really serious stuff.

 

'Well, he's a man child. My best friend. And I love him and want him happy and well fed.' Niall still looks kind of intimidating and Harry would laugh if he wasn't so nervous suddenly.

 

Instead of answering he averts his eyes to look at his hands. He should have seen this coming. Even though it seems like he’s never paying attention, Niall always seems to notice everything. Last weekend at the pub when a tipsy Louis climbed in Harry's lap because 'there's no space left. You take it all up with your giant giraffe legs, Hazza' Niall watched Harry – probably making drunk heart eyes at Louis – for very unsettling two minutes.

 

'You do though, don't you?' Niall asks and he still looks serious but a little less frightening.

 

Why is Niall so persistent? Is he that obvious? Harry thought he was pretty good at hiding his giant crush from Niall and Louis. Apparently not.

 

_Oh God. Does Louis know?_

 

'Um. Of course I do. We're all friends, right?' He chuckles nervously and looks over to where Liam and Louis are still sat on the piano stool, hoping for Liam to miraculously read his mind and come running to save him.

 

He doesn't.

 

'Yeah but _you_ look at him like the sun shines out of his ass.' Niall closes the fridge door and hands him a six-pack of Corona. 'It's okay. I won't tell him.'

 

'You... ? You won't?' Harry whispers. And wow. Now he feels a little dizzy because he basically just admitted to Louis' best friend that he's got more than platonic feelings for Louis.

 

The beer is incredibly heavy in his hands.

 

Niall doesn't look surprised at all at Harry's sort of confession.

 

'Of course not.' He closes the fridge and steps closer to Harry. 'Who do you take me for?' He takes the six-pack from Harry and puts it on the counter. For a few moments both of them stay silent, Louis' and Liam's snickering the only noise in the spacious room.

 

'Just... Give him some time, yeah?' Niall says finally and he gives Harry an encouraging smile.

 

Which what? Before Harry can ask if this is what he meant Niall puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

 

'I just think he needs to do this at his own speed. He needs a friend right now. And you're a great friend.'

 

_What does this even mean?_

 

Fuck. Harry has questions. So many questions. They were there all along – ever since he met Louis almost four months ago. He pushed them away after Louis made it pretty clear that he wasn't interested in anything other than friendship.

 

'What does he need to do at his own speed?'

 

'Realising that you guys belong together.'

 

_Wow. Okay._

 

For Niall, the conversation seems to be over because he takes the beer from the counter, winks at Harry and marches over to the sofa in the living area where Liam and Louis are now lounging on the sofa.

 

_Fucking Niall. Fuck._

 

'What are we watching lads? I think it's time for NeverEnding Story. We haven't watched it in forever.' Niall says while jumping over the back of the sofa.

 

'Yeah, no chance. We watched it last Friday.' Louis' raspy voice answers. 'Hey Hazza, be a dear and bring some biscuits, yeah?' Louis' voice is lovely, so lovely and Harry is so confused.

 

He takes Niall's Santa-shaped jar of chocolate chip biscuits and wanders over to the sofa.

 

Louis pats the space next to him. 'Are you alright, love? You look a bit shaken.'

 

Harry tries not to feel too warm at the nickname, but he can't help it. There are some very fidgety butterflies in his tummy.

 

'I'm alright.' He replies before sitting down next to Louis who is still looking at him with concerned eyes.

 

Louis lifts his arm and throws it around Harry's shoulder. 'Come on then. Give us a cuddle.'

 

 _We belong together._ Harry thinks before he cuddles into Louis' side. For now though this is good enough.

 

...

 

 **12** **th** **of May 2016**

 

'What's your favourite place in London?' Harry asks. He's sitting in front of his computer doing the last edits on a shoot for sports bras.

 

'Don't know. My bed, I think. Or yours. Yours feels pretty fucking great right now too.' Louis mumbles from his starfish position on Harry's bed.

 

When Louis arrived at Harry's half an hour ago he wordlessly thrust his leather satchel into Harry's hands, kicked off his shoes and basically ripped off his white dress shirt before he made a beeline for Harry's room where he dramatically threw himself onto the freshly made bed.

 

He hasn't really moved since then, but he told Harry about his awful meeting with some awfully presumptuous newcomer act and his team.

 

'They said the songs were not suitable for a mainly female, heterosexual audience. You know what that means? They basically said they are gay. My songs are too gay. Can you believe? This is outrageous. I am fucking gay so I will fucking write gay. It's not like I write about cocks and taking it up the ass. I should. Do you think Niall would sing it?'

 

Niall probably would, but that's not the point. The point is that Louis came to Harry because he was upset. He came to Harry because they are friends. They are really great friends and lately more than often they are spending time together just the two of them.

 

It's not like he doesn't see Niall or Liam. He lives with Liam and Niall is guaranteed to be found somewhere near the three of them whenever he's not busy promoting his single. But it's different. Louis and Harry are different.

 

Harry knows that their friendship is special and he knows that Louis feels it too. Louis trusts him with a lot of personal stuff and Harry is secretly pleased about this because despite his loud and unabashed nature, Louis is quite private when it comes to things that are important to him.

 

He talks about his family a lot and even opened up a bit about Sam – Louis' annoying ex who still calls him sometimes and who is probably the main reason as to why Harry is stuck being friend zoned. Not that he complains. Being Louis' friend is great. It's the closest he's been to anyone outside his family besides Liam. And he’s known Liam since he still wore those awful, too-short jeans in primary school.

 

So yeah, he's happy to be Louis' friend. If there weren't all these other feelings that are getting more difficult to hide with every day they spend together.

 

'What's yours then?' Louis' voice interrupts Harry's thoughts.

 

'Hmmm?'

 

' _Your_ favourite place in London?' Louis says impatiently. 'Keep up, Curly. You ask, I answer. Then I ask and you answer. That's how a conversation works in human world.'

 

He's looking at Harry expectantly and pats the space next to him on the bed. Harry closes his laptop with a dramatic sigh and walks over to the bed. Louis scoots over to the wall to make more room for him.

 

It's almost like a routine. Most of the time that they’re together they spend in their beds talking or eating and watching a film on Harry's laptop or sometimes just lying next to each other.

 

Harry prefers Louis' bed because the mattress is harder and because it smells like Louis – like apples and sandalwood and roasted almonds and something so indescribable Louis – it makes Harry weak.

 

So Louis' bed or Harry's own bed when occupied by an incredibly smelling Louis in it might be his favourite places in London too. But to avoid Louis' teasing over how uncreative this answer would be he settles for his second favourite place.

 

'Um. The library, I think.'

 

They are facing each other now, both on their sides, and Louis is looking at him with disbelieving eyes.

 

'That's like the fakest, most ridiculous hipster answer I've ever heard. Even by your standards.'

 

Harry should be offended but all he can do is giggle at Louis' outraged expression.

 

'You own a fucking eBook reader!' Louis continues. 'I saw it on your coffee table yesterday. And don't tell me it's Liam's. Liam doesn't read. Except for comics.'

 

'Yeah, I got it from my mum for my last birthday. Doesn't mean I don't go to the library. I do prefer actual books. They have personality and I love the smell.'

 

Louis wrinkles his nose and furrows his brows but seems satisfied with the answer. Like he can't understand how Harry would pick the public library out of all the places in London but accepts that this is how 'his weird alien brain' – Louis' words not his – works.

 

Harry wants to kiss the frown of his face.

 

'What's the last book you borrowed then?' Louis asks.

 

'I thought I was the one who got to ask a question now?'

 

'I changed my mind. I get to ask the questions. You answer.' It sounds utterly demanding but there are tiny crinkles by Louis' eyes and Harry can't resist those crinkles.

 

The last book he burrowed though. That might be a bit embarrassing to tell. At least if he'd tell the actual reason why he burrowed the book.

 

But Louis looks at him expectantly and it's not like Harry could ever say no to him – this crush is really getting out of hand.

 

_Get a fucking grip Styles._

 

'It's _The Three Musketeers_ actually.' Harry coughs awkwardly. Maybe Louis doesn't even remember.

 

'Oh! Because we talked about it when we first met?' Louis asks surprised.

 

_Well, that's not when we first met._

 

'Um, yeah.' Harry says.

 

Neither of them has mentioned the kiss ever since New Year’s Day.

 

'And?' Louis asks. He's playing with Harry's hair again. The angle is a bit awkward, but Harry leans into Louis' hand anyway.

 

'And what?'

 

'Which musketeer am I?' Louis asks and smiles. His voice is gentle, almost a whisper now.

 

So he does remember. Harry can't help but smile at that.

 

'I don't know actually. I don't think you're like any of them. I mean you're loud like Porthos and...'

 

'Handsome like Aramis obviously.' Louis interrupts Harry, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

'Not what I was going to say but okay, whatever you say.' Louis tugs at Harry's hair and Harry has to suppress a groan because this doesn't feel like a punishment. The opposite really.

 

'I was going to say,' he continues, 'you're intelligent and loyal like Athos. And um...' Harry stops himself. This is nothing he's supposed to say out loud.

 

'What? What else?' Louis demands.

 

Harry takes an audible breath. 'You're heartbroken. Um. Athos is too,' he all but whispers. He closes his eyes. Why did he just say that?

 

He shouldn't have. Not like this. Harry was so happy that Louis opened up to him and started to talk about his last relationship, even if it were only tiny bits here and there. And now he completely ruined it, didn't he?

 

Harry wants to punch himself.

 

When he dares to open his eyes again he's surprised at Louis' calm and gentle expression. There is even the hint of a smile – it's a bit of a sad smile but a smile nevertheless – on Louis' lips.

 

'It's healing.' He says, his voice is quiet and his eyes are never leaving Harry's face. 'It's almost recovered. Wanna hear?' Louis puts his own hand on his chest where his heart is located and puts his other arm on Harry's waist.

 

'Yeah.' Harry breathes and he slowly lets himself be pulled to Louis' chest.

 

'Can you hear?' Louis asks after a moment of silence where Harry only listened to Louis' slightly hastened heartbeats.

 

'I can. Um. It sounds good. Like healthy and strong and stuff.'

 

Louis lets out a low chuckle, the vibrations ringing in Harry's ear. 'You're just a weird one, aren't you, Curly?'

 

'Am not.' Harry loves to be called Curly. It's the nickname Louis gave him before he even knew his real name.

 

Louis doesn't answer but starts to stroke Harry's back in slow circles.

 

Surrounded by the warmth of Louis' body, Harry falls asleep.

 

...

 

 **16** **th** **of July 2016**

 

'I saw Sam.'

 

_Oh._

 

Louis flops himself onto the blue blanket Harry brought with him to the park. It's a sunny day and Harry thought it was a good idea to work on his non-existent tan. He looks like a mozzarella next to Louis whose skin is basically the colour of freshly made caramel.

 

'It was good.' Louis continues casually, as if this wasn't newsworthy at all.

 

Harry tries to ignore the disappointment curling in his stomach. But it's there and it rapidly crawls through his whole body.

 

A not-so-small part of him – especially after the talk with Niall – had thought that there was a chance for them. For Louis and Harry. That Louis would feel the same way eventually.

 

'Yeah?' He asks a little breathless and stares up at the blue cloudless sky.

 

When he turns his head Louis is already looking at him. He didn't bother to style his hair today and Harry wants to touch the soft fringe. His eyes are so bright and remind him of the ocean. They are not just blue, sometimes they're azure, sometimes they are the clearest grey, they're stormy and calm at the same time. Louis has the most beautiful eyes. Harry noticed the first time he saw them by daylight.

 

'Yeah.' Louis smiles, actually smiles and Harry might be sick. Louis' genuine smile hits him like a punch in the stomach.

 

This is it. Harry can see his future self, third wheeling to Louis' and Sam's dates – where they share milkshakes while Harry is stuck with his own lonely banana milkshake – or listen to Louis gushing over how happy he is again now that he's finally back with Sam.

 

 _Fuck_. This was not what he was expecting when Louis called an hour ago to tell him he had some news that he couldn't wait to tell Harry. He thought it was something work related, maybe something about Niall's new single or maybe even a new plan to trick Liam into shaving his own head. _This,_ however, Harry didn't expect.

 

He internally readies himself for his 'I'm definitely not in love with you but a very supportive friend' face because that's what he is – just a supportive friend – when Louis speaks up again.

 

'I felt nothing.'

 

_It's okay. You will get over it eventually. There are other pretty men out there even though they don't have skin this soft or a smile that competes in brightness with the sun or..._

 

_Wait? What?_

 

'What?'

 

'I felt nothing.' Louis repeats and Harry is not sure he's still breathing properly because _what_?

 

'Ran into him on the street. And it was nothing like I imagined it to be. I wasn't nervous or excited or sad. I just felt nothing.'

 

Louis is still smiling at him and Harry feels those fidgety butterflies in his tummy again. For the first time he doesn't try to suppress them.

 

This is hands down the best news Louis could ever come up with.

 

'Hazza, there are some huge craters in your cheeks right now.' Louis chuckles. He pokes his finger into Harry's right dimple. Harry feels warm all over.

 

'I'm just happy for you.' He says because what else is there to say in a moment like this? A love declaration probably wouldn't be very appropriate right now. _Love? What the fuck?_

 

'Is that so?' Louis asks teasing.

 

'Yup.'

 

'Well then, happy boy, where are the summery gingerbread biscuits à la Niall I was promised?'

 

...

 

 **17** **th** **of September 2016**

 

Louis is a very physical person.

 

Not that this is news and not that Harry didn't over-analyse Louis' constant touches or his apparent fondness of Harry's hair for the past few months, but there is only so much a man can take.

 

Ever since Louis ran into Sam two months ago _something_ has shifted between them. The touches and glances feel different, lingering and intimate, full of longing.

 

At this point Harry is sure that he's not alone with his feelings anymore.

 

Even if Louis hasn't realised it yet. He must feel more than just friendship for Harry too.

 

Or Harry is the biggest idiot and Louis is the most clueless human being in the entire universe.

 

So, yeah, Harry thought a lot about what Louis might feel for him and if he should make a move. Emphasises on _thought_ because he definitely hasn’t made a move yet.

 

Right now though Harry is about to burst if he doesn't put more space between them immediately.

 

Louis' head is lying in Harry's lap, his face is captured in a delighted laugh over something Niall just shouted from the dance floor. His hair is styled into the side quiff thingy and his jawline is covered in five days of stubble – not that Harry is counting (he is). Overall Louis just looks delicious, edible really and if Louis could hear Harry's thoughts he would probably never stop teasing him. _Delicious? Really Styles?_

 

They are celebrating Niall's birthday and to Niall's great joy, Louis, Harry and Liam organised a Christmas-themed party.

 

The flat is crammed with red and golden decorations and tons of people who are all wearing Santa hats. Louis bought the most tacky Christmas jumpers for the four of them and actually manages to look sexy in his. Ridiculous. Who looks good in a neon green Grinch jumper?

 

Harry's jumper is pink and has two penguins holding hands on it – or wings – because 'You look extra pretty in pink, Hazza. With the curls and big eyes and all that. You know, you actually give a bit of a Disney princess vibe and I think you should embrace it.'

 

So yeah, Louis is giggling in his lap and Harry is about to pick him up to carry him over to the nearest mistletoe because the urge to finally kiss him again is almost unbearable at this point.

 

'What's up, Curly? Why you smiling so big?' Louis slurs and he tugs at one of the loose curls hanging in Harry's face.

 

'Don't know. 'M just happy, I guess.' Harry slurs back because he's definitely not anywhere near sober anymore either.

 

'You know what?' Louis asks and sits up in a sudden movement. 'We should dance.'

 

'But you always say that I can't dance.' Harry pouts because he's actually a pretty good dancer. He knows at least five people who can confirm that. His mother, for example. He should call her to confirm. That would actually be a great reason to introduce her to Louis. Or not. Harry is really drunk.

 

'I never said that. I said you dance like a weird noodle-man, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Personally, I love a good noodle dance.' Louis gets up and holds a hand out for Harry. 'C'mon, love, show us your moves.'

 

It's stupid to feel flattered by being called a noodle, but Harry hides a beaming smile anyway before he takes Louis' hand and lets himself be led over to where everybody is dancing.

 

Louis stops next to Liam, who is dancing with a petite short haired brunette, Niall and Ed and spins Harry around before he gently places his hands on Harry's waist.

 

_Oh. Wow._

 

They're really doing this. They are properly dancing together for the first time.

 

So far they’ve usually danced in a larger group, never just the two of them. But Louis' intent hands brush away every bit of Harry's doubt that Louis might not want to dance just with him.

 

So he starts moving. He doesn't really recognize the song but concentrates on Louis' movements. Louis who is suddenly so close again that Harry can smell the remnants of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath.

 

Louis looks at him and he's still smiling. He looks so happy and Harry really wants to kiss him. He hides his face in Louis' neck instead. It's a bit of an uncomfortable position because Louis is smaller than him and he needs to stretch his neck, but Harry feels warm and safe and like he wants to stay like this forever.

 

They keep dancing. Harry doesn't know for how long – could be ten minutes or two hours – because he's completely captivated by Louis' presence. By his body heat, his scent and the movements of his hips. He's slightly aware of Louis' hands wandering over his back and his sides. Everything feels intense and Harry doesn't even care if there are still other people in the room.

 

He's not sure if it's because of a new song, but then suddenly their bodies are even closer as they were just a minute ago, touching almost everywhere from head to toe. Louis' hands are now on the small of his back and the movements of his hips are more purposeful.

 

Harry can feel that Louis is hard and he's sure that Louis can feel he's hard too. (He’s been sporting a semi ever since they started dancing.)

 

It's too much and simultaneously not enough.

 

Harry doesn't dare to lift his head, too afraid that it would ruin this moment.

 

When Louis slides his leg between Harry's he can't help the groan that escapes his lips though. It's a bit muffled by Louis' neck but Harry is sure that Louis heard it because he suddenly stills.

 

_This is it._

 

Harry holds his breath. He feels Louis' right hand leaving his back, touching his cheek gently but determinedly enough for Harry to lift his head from the crook of Louis' neck.

 

Louis' pupils are dilated and his hair is dishevelled. The look in his eyes is one of pure lust. The recognition that Louis wants this just as much as Harry makes all the fidgety butterflies that are usually living in Harry's belly spread through his whole body.

 

They stare at each other. Harry is barely aware of the music and the people still surrounding them.

 

Louis takes his left hand in his' and squeezes. His eyes are never leaving Harry's and he tilts his head in silent question.

 

_Yeah?_

 

 _Yeah_. Harry nods.

 

Louis interlocks their fingers properly and pulls Harry through the crowd to his room so quickly that Harry has difficulty following him.

 

They stumble through the door. Louis quickly closes it behind them and locks it.

 

When he turns around to look at Harry he looks unsure all of a sudden, like what is about to happen scares the shit out of him.

 

And Harry can't have that. He can't have Louis to back out now. Not when he wants this so much and waited for so long, not when he's sure that Louis wants this just as much.

 

So he takes a few steps in Louis' direction until he's in his space again. He lifts his hand and strokes a finger over Louis' cheek.

 

'Okay?' he asks.

 

He's not sure why he asks, but it doesn't really matter as this simple question is apparently all Louis needs because he surges forward and grabs Harry by the back of his head.

 

And then they are kissing. _Again_. Again, after so much time, and this feels nothing like their first kiss but still like coming home.

 

It's not soft and gentle, it's raw and desperate and wet and Harry feels so much.

 

He tastes the sheen of red wine and cinnamon on Louis' tongue and all he can think is _more more more._ So he tugs at the hem of Louis' jumper who stops kissing him only so he can take it off. His skin is so so soft and Harry can't stop touching him.

 

He barely notices that he lost his own jumper or that they moved over to Louis' bed, but he suddenly feels the cold sheets when his back touches Louis' mattress.

 

There are goosebumps where Harry's hands slide over Louis' back. There is Louis' mouth kissing down his chest and his tummy. There are bites and licks and groans and whimpers.. It's all _Louis Louis Louis._

 

Harry feels alive.

 

...

 

The next morning Louis wakes up in what he thinks is his own bed with a full bladder and a warm back to his chest.

 

Louis blinks his eyes open to the sight of a mop of curly brown hair.

 

_Harry._

 

_Wow. This really happened._

 

The sunlight shines through his window slightly shielded by the plants Niall put on the sill to make Louis' room 'homier' and their clothes are randomly spread across the wooden floor.

 

Louis sighs and pushes his nose back into the curls in front of him.

 

Maybe this should feel strange because for the first time after a very long time Louis slept with someone. Not just someone. With Harry. His best friend.

 

The weird thing is that this doesn't feel weird. At all. This feels right. Really fucking good even.

 

Like he finally did something that had been inevitable all along, even if he didn't realise it before.

 

Of course he thought about it. What it would be like to kiss Harry again. What it would feel like to be with him. Ever since their first night on Greg's balcony really.

 

But it didn’t feel right to jump into something new so fast. Not when he was still so hung up on Sam, which in retrospect may seem a bit ridiculous since he hasn't thought about him for months now. But still.

 

Even now it doesn't feel like he wants to jump. But maybe he wants to take some steps. With Harry. Because it's Harry. And Harry is wonderful. Quirky, charming, lanky, curly, wonderful Harry who smells like spring and coconut, who has the deepest voice and the biggest heart, who patiently listens to Louis moan about the most uninteresting stuff and genuinely laughs at every single one of Louis' jokes.

 

Harry is lovely.

 

Harry is also stirring and humming in his sleep right now.

 

Louis brushes his knuckles over Harry's tummy and Harry stills. Over his shoulder Louis can see a dimple showing on Harry's cheek.

 

'G'morning.' Harry's sleep-heavy voice croaks. It's even deeper than usual and Louis feels himself getting hard again.

 

'Morning, Curly. Sleep well?' He whispers because this moment is too precious to be loud.

 

'Mmhhmm.' Harry hums and turns in Louis' arms. His eyes are puffy and still almost closed. He looks so cute that Louis has to kiss his nose. Harry's dimples pop up again immediately.

 

They stay like this for a while, holding each other, their faces almost touching and if Louis wouldn't be about to pee his pants, or his bed, because he's completely naked, he could stay like this the whole day.

 

And water. He needs water. So he untangles his limbs from Harry's, who pouts a little but lets him go anyway, puts on some fresh Calvin Klein's and wanders off to the bathroom.

 

On his way back, he stops by at the kitchen to get water from the fridge.

 

'Were you hoovering last night?'

 

It takes a moment for Louis’ brain to process this question. 'What?' He turns around to find a very hungover looking Niall, who squints blearily and smirks at Louis from across the counter.

 

'Just wonderin' if you had an accident with the hoover ‘cause it looks like one attacked your neck.'

 

'Fuck off.' Louis chuckles before he looks at himself in the tiny mirror magnet on the fridge door. His neck is covered in little red and purple hickies. Fucking hell. Harry sure is a fan of marking.

 

When he turns to look at Niall again his best friend is watching him with warm and knowing eyes. 'I'm happy for ya man. It's about time.' He takes a big sip of his Coke can and lets out the loudest burp before he wanders off to the living area where a sleeping Liam is drooling on the sofa cushions.

 

So that's that.

 

Suddenly Louis can't be back with Harry fast enough. He takes the water bottle and practically runs back to his room.

 

When he bursts through the door he is greeted with the sight of a very naked Harry who's now sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his hair into a tiny bun.

 

His skin is so creamy and his lips are so pink and Louis thinks he might be the prettiest person he's ever seen.

 

'Hey.'

 

'Hey. I missed you.' Louis blurts out because he actually did and Harry should know that.

 

'You did?' Harry beams. 'I missed you too.' He says with a much quieter voice.

 

Louis puts the water on the night stand and climbs back to Harry under the covers.

 

'I think we should talk,' he says and Harry's face falls immediately.

 

'No! No. Not like that. It's not that kind of talk. But I think we should maybe talk about how we go from here.' Louis says. He is slightly taken aback by Harry's reaction. Did he honestly think that this was a one off to Louis?

 

'Oh. Okay. Yeah, let's do this.' Harry breathes out. He looks relieved.

 

'Okay. Great. I'll start, yeah?' Harry nods. His eyes are still a little puffy but have the most beautiful shade of fresh cut grass today.

 

'I like you. A lot.' Louis begins because this much he knows for sure. 'And I don't want to be just friends anymore.'

 

'Good. Me neither.' Harry says and he's smiling. 'And I like you a lot too.'

 

'Good.' Harry lifts his hand to run his fingers through Louis' hair lightly.

 

'I just think...' Louis continues, leaning into the touch. 'I just think I need to take this slow. Can we take this slow? Would that be okay?' God, Louis hopes so much that this is okay because he honestly can't imagine going back to just being friends. Not after last night. He can't jump either though. Not when the last time he jumped everything went to shit soon after.

 

This is not about being unsure of his feelings. This is about trusting a person to be there for him and knowing that he himself is ready for something with someone new again.

 

Harry looks at him thoughtfully, his brows furrowed, like he’s trying to figure something out for himself. Louis wished he would actually say out loud whatever it is he’s thinking instead of dealing with it on his own.

 

‘Does that mean I can ask you out on a proper date?' he finally says. The furrow between his brows has disappeared now.

 

Louis can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this question.

 

'Yeah. I guess so.'

 

'Oh, okay then. Good to know.' Harry says and he looks kind of smug. He lies down on his side again and closes his eyes.

 

'What? You're not going to ask me now?'

 

'Nope.' Harry's eyes are still closed and his dimples appear again.

 

'Why not?' Louis asks.

 

'I'm kind of tired.' He cracks an eye open to look at Louis for a split second and then he starts to giggle.

 

'You sneaky bastard.' Louis is not going to get him away with it so he starts a tickle attack that makes Harry squirm and his cheeks flush in the prettiest shade of red. Harry tries to fight back but he's too busy laughing like a seal – like a very cute seal – to be a proper opponent.

 

They end up hugging close, all limbs tangled in each other somehow, trying to calm their laughter.

 

They are just breathing each other in. Louis' nose is burrowed in Harry's curls while Harry places small open mouthed kisses in the crook of Louis' neck.

 

'Hey H?' Louis asks into the silence of the room because he needs to be sure that they are both on the same page. That they are both okay with this.

 

'Hmm?' Harry replies before he continues to kiss and nuzzle Louis' neck.

 

'Are you really okay with us taking this slow?' Louis doesn't want Harry to agree just so Louis is happy. He wants Harry happy too.

 

Harry stills and Louis hears him drawing a deep breath. 'I am, Lou.' He says. 'We'll take it slow.' The sound of his voice is muffled by Louis' skin, but he can still hear Harry's determination.

 

'Okay, good.' Louis is relieved.

 

Harry lifts his head to look into Louis' eyes. 'I'm happy.'

 

Louis kisses him.

 

...

 

**November 2016**

 

Autumn passes in a blur.

 

There are endless walks through the park while holding hands, hot cocoa and Yorkshire tea for Louis and even more cuddles than Harry was already used to when he and Louis were just friends.

 

There is Louis picking him up from a photo shoot wearing his fancy coat and brogues, looking so incredibly handsome that Harry gets approving nods from almost everyone on set. Louis treating him to a fancy dinner where they drink so much wine that Louis' teeth and lips shine in the most delicious blue. And so many kisses. Harry can't stop kissing him.

 

There are whole days spend in bed eating pot noodle while watching a film on one of their laptops or just kissing till their lips feel raw. And then there is the sex, which is so mind-blowingly awesome that Harry feels like some kind of addict who can never get enough, who's always craving more Louis.

 

There are nights out with Liam and Niall and sometimes Ed where Louis is the centre of everyone's attention even though Niall and Ed are the famous ones in their little group. Louis still manages to never loose Harry in the crowds, always somehow touching or looking to reassure him that he's still there. That he's with Harry.

 

Harry is so incredibly in love that he doesn't know what to do about it sometimes. He feels like yelling it into the night, like telling every single nameless stranger on the Tube. He feels like telling Louis too, but he's also aware that Louis is not ready. Not ready to hear it and definitely not ready to say it back.

 

He knows that he agreed to taking this slow, but Louis with his crinkly eyed smile and his tiny feet and his huge heart is not making it easy.

 

But then there are those moments where Louis pulls away. He's still Louis but he seems unsure and fragile and not ready to let Harry fully in and it's frustrating.

 

The first time Harry's impatience turns into annoyance is the day Gemma moved back to London from her year abroad. She’s taken a job as a writer for some up and coming fashion and beauty blog and Harry is so ecstatic to have his sister living in the same town again that on the day of her arrival he is so pumped that he can't stop fidgeting next to Louis on the sofa.

 

'What's up with you this morning, baby? You're all jumpy. A jumpy giant.' Louis asks from his position on Harry's chest. He's already fully dressed and looks absolutely gorgeous in his white crisp dress shirt while Harry is only in his underwear. They are currently enjoying some post-breakfast cuddles before Louis has to leave for work in approximately ten minutes.

 

'Nothing. I'm just excited to see my sister again.'

 

Louis lifts his head and smiles at him. It's his fond smile. Louis has all kind of different smiles. The fond smile might be one of Harry's favourites. 'I'm excited for you too. When are you going to pick her up?'

 

'Noon,' he says. 'Hey! When will you be off work today?' An idea just popped into his head.

 

'Around seven. Maybe eight. Why? I'd figured you wanted to spend some time with your sister after not seeing her for such a long time?' Louis' fingers are drawing circles around Harry's left nipple and he places a close mouthed kiss right next to it.

 

'I do. But I want you guys to meet.'

 

'Oh.' Louis fingers still on Harry's skin and he lifts his head again to look at Harry. The second their eyes meet Harry knows Louis' answer.

 

'I'm sure you guys have a lot to catch up on. I'll meet her some other time, yeah?' Disappointment settles in Harry's stomach and he's sure that it's evident on his face too because Louis looks kind of guilty all of a sudden.

 

'Whatever.' Harry grumbles and he pushes himself up from the sofa. He doesn't want to be angry at Louis because he knows that Louis doesn't mean to disappoint him but he can't help the irritation rising in him anyway.

 

Louis seems taken aback at Harry's harsh reaction.

 

'Hey. Are you okay?'

 

Harry nods.

 

'Are we okay?'

 

Harry nods again.

 

'Are you sure?' Louis asks again.

 

'Yeah. I just need to get ready. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?' He kisses Louis' forehead and walks over to the bathroom without looking back.

 

...

 

Two weeks later they’re just getting back from dinner at the new fancy pasta place around the corner from Louis and Niall's flat when Harry gets a text from his mother.

 

_Robin is in London for work tomorrow and I thought I’d join him. Fancy dinner with your old mum? Gemma is coming too! I miss you darling boy xxx_

 

Harry smiles and types out a reply. He'd love to see his mother. His visits to Cheshire have become way too rare, especially since he met Louis. So much has happened since the last time he saw her and Harry wants his mother to meet Louis so badly that he just has to try again.

 

Maybe Louis will agree. It's just a casual dinner after all.

 

Louis looks up from where he is filling the kettle for a bedtime cuppa when he hears Harry approaching him. 'What's up, love? You look nervous. Did something happen?'

 

'No, nothing. It's just... my mum just texted... ' he starts uncertainly.

 

'Oh, is everything alright?' Louis looks concerned.

 

'No, No. Everything is fine. It's just that she and Robin are coming to London tomorrow and I'll meet her and Gemma for dinner and I was hoping that... that you'd be free and... and maybe would like to join us?'

 

Louis looks at him for a moment before he turns back to put on the kettle. 'I think it would be better if you'd go see them alone.' He answers quietly and when Harry doesn’t answer he adds, 'I could meet them next year sometime, yeah?'

 

'Lou, please. Don't be like that. It's just dinner and this is important to me.' Harry pleads because he's not ready to give up yet this time.

 

Louis looks conflicted. He turns to fully face Harry and slips both hands in the pockets of his trousers. He looks so small like that. 'Sorry H. I think I need some more time.'

 

They're both silent. Harry is not sure what to say next. Why can't Louis just agree to this? What is the big deal?

 

'We don't have to tell them that we're seeing each other. I could just introduce you as a friend.' Harry tries and he hears the pleading tone in his own voice. Fuck. This is not how this was supposed to go.

 

'Is that what you want?' Louis asks.

 

'Obviously not. But I want you there so I’ll take what I can get.' Harry tries to calm the anger that's rising in his belly, but it's already too late. He's annoyed. He's annoyed with himself for even thinking that Louis could say yes, but mostly he's annoyed with Louis because what the bloody hell is the big deal?

 

'I'm sorry H. I don't know what to say. I can't.' Louis is not looking at him anymore but is watching his bare feet on the tiles instead. It makes Harry even angrier.

 

'Why not? Explain it to me. I want an explanation.'

 

Louis is shaking his head in confusion before he looks back up at Harry. 'I want to make it right this time.'

 

'Then fucking do something about it!' Harry almost shouts and he's shocked at how loud his voice is.

 

Louis seems shocked too.

 

'I thought you were okay with this. You agreed to taking this slow. We were taking this slow together. One step after another.' There is a defensive edge in his voice now.

 

'When is the next step though? I don't want to wait any longer. It's just my sister and my mum, Lou. Not the bloody Pope.' Harry runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He feels so on edge all of a sudden, like he's going to burst any moment now.

 

Louis looks distressed. 'Fuck. I told you this is a big deal for me. And you know that. You know that everything went to shit after I introduced my last boyfriend to my family.'

 

 _Of course_. This is about Sam.

 

'You can say his name, you know. You couldn't stop fucking whining about him when we met so there is no need to stop now. Fucking Sam.' The words are falling from his mouth and he can’t do anything to stop them. 'This is not the bloody mess your last relationship was. This is special. But you're going to ruin this if you won't stop being so scared.'

 

Louis looks shocked and Harry wants to apologise immediately. What the fuck did he just say?

 

There is so much anger and hurt in Louis' eyes now. 'Lou, I...' Harry reaches out his hand to touch Louis' arm. Louis slaps it away.

 

'No! Don't fucking touch me! You don't get to blame me for this. This is not fucking fair! I can’t believe this is what you’ve been thinking the whole time. I can't believe that you of all people would say this! I fucking trusted you.' There are tears rolling down Louis' face and Harry can't believe he was able to hurt Louis like this.

 

He's crying too now. They're both crying.

 

'I think you should go now.' Louis says after a while. He's facing the window and his voice sounds so tired and still so hurt that Harry can barely hold himself back from walking over and hugging him. Because this is not what Louis wants right now. Louis wants Harry to leave.

 

But Harry can't leave now. Not like this.

 

'Lou, no, I... I'm sorry.'

 

'I want you to go.' He says. 'Now.'

 

'Okay.' Harry all but whispers. 'Can I call you tomorrow?'

 

There is no answer.

 

'I will call you tomorrow.' Harry tries again.

 

There is still no answer.

 

Harry leaves.

 

**...**

 

Harry calls Louis every day for the next week. Louis never answers.

 

...

 

 **12** **th** **of December 2016**

 

So far this day is an absolute nightmare. In the morning Harry stumbled into the bathroom after another sleepless night just to surprise a butt naked Liam, who cut himself shaving as a result. Harry then managed to tear down the shower curtain while stubbing his big toe on the bathtub. His toe still hurts.

 

Then one of his clients called because he's not happy with Harry's work, saying the final product 'seems monotonous and uninspired' and Harry may or may not have yelled at him before ending the call without an apology or a goodbye.

 

And now, to cap it all off, he's running late for his stupid non-date with the hot brother of Gemma’s co-worker because when he was looking in his closet for something other to wear than sweats and the pink penguin jumper he found Louis' [scarf](https://www.paulsmith.co.uk/uk-en/shop/paul-smith-no-9-men-s-navy-silk-blend-scarf.html), the one that makes his eyes look even more beautiful, and therefore spent half an hour crying on the floor of his room.

 

When he finally barges through the door of the café _Gemma_ chose – because he's a pushover – he realises that he doesn't even know the guy's name or what he looks like. That might be a problem. Harry searches the crowded room for someone who potentially could be the hot brother.

 

Nothing. The only person who is sitting on their own is a middle-aged woman with black hair, giant earrings and orange lipstick.

 

 _Fucking great._ Hot brother is even later than him. Could this day get any worse? Probably not. All Harry wants to do is turn around and go back home to hide under the covers he hasn't changed for three weeks because they used to smell like Louis. Now they just kinda smell.

 

He doesn't because he's not an asshole. Harry sighs and walks over to a free table in the corner of the room. There is a vintage sofa pushed to the wall with a small coffee-table in front of it. He's just going to drink one coffee, make some small talk, and try not to think about Louis too much so he won't cry in front of a stranger. Perfect plan.

 

Harry takes of his woollen coat but leaves on Louis' scarf. Yes, he’s wearing Louis' scarf because he's apparently not only a pushover but also a masochist.

 

He sits down and starts to study the menu. A simple coffee. That will do.

 

Just when he's about to check his mobile and type out a grumpy reply to his sister, a voice startles him.

 

'Harry?'

 

 _This can't be..._ Harry's head snaps up. It's him.

 

'Lou.'

 

Louis looks beautiful in a dark green coat and a grey chequered scarf, the surprise evident in his eyes. Harry notices how tired he looks. There are the dark circles under his eyes that he gets whenever he can't sleep properly because he worries about something. Harry knows this because he knows Louis.

 

He misses Louis too. He misses him so fucking much.

 

Louis seems confused as to why Harry is here. He breaks their eye-contact to search the room for something, for someone probably. His stubble is even longer than usual. It almost looks like a proper beard and Harry has the urge to feel it under his fingers.

 

'What are you doing here?' Louis is looking at him again. He voice is quiet, unsure.

 

'Um. I'm just meeting someone for coffee.' Oh God, he hopes that hot brother won't turn up now. How will he explain this whole thing? _'My sister basically tricked me into agreeing on a blind date when all I can think about is you, day and night. Always._ ' Yeah, that doesn't sound plausible at all.

 

Louis is still looking at him and he seems nervous. 'Um. Me too. Seems like they are not here yet.' He says, scanning the room again.

 

'Do you want to sit?' Harry asks because this might be the only chance he'll get to talk to Louis again.

 

Hot brother probably won't turn up anyway. He's twenty-five minutes late already.

 

Louis says nothing for a while. Just when Harry is about to say something, anything to break the unbearable silence between them Louis breathes a ‘yeah’ and starts to undo the buttons of his coat. He's wearing a cosy looking cream-coloured jumper that makes his skin glow.

 

He slowly sits down next to Harry, their coats some sort of barrier between them and looks at the menu.

 

'I'm _so_ sorry.' Harry says because he can't hold it back any longer. It's the one thing he wanted Louis to hear ever since their fight.

 

Louis slowly lifts is head from where he was still looking at the menu and turns to glance at Harry.

 

'I know you are,' he says calmly.

 

'And I didn't mean any of what I said,' Harry continues. He's not sure if Louis is ready to hear the entire apology Harry’s practised in his mind over and over again, but he has to try to at least make Louis see how sorry he is.

 

'Why did you say it then?' Louis' voice is so quiet and fragile that Harry is afraid it will break if he says another word.

 

'Because... ' There is so much Harry wants to say. So much. He's not sure that Louis wants to hear it, is prepared for the big pile of pure emotion that Harry is about to drop on him. But if he won't say it now, then when? Maybe this is his last chance.

 

'Because I care so much about you that it overwhelms me sometimes. Like, I want everything with you. Everything.'

 

Louis watches him and there is suddenly so much emotion in his eyes.

 

'And I was so afraid that you don't... that you didn't feel it, this whole endless love thing.' Harry continues. 'That you will maybe wake up some day and think that you've had enough of me... and I don't know, it's irrational really. I was afraid to lose you and that's why I wanted this so badly. For you to meet my family. Because it felt like some kind of reassurance, which is stupid... I know that now. I don't need you to meet my family for this to be real.'

 

Louis is about to say something but Harry stops him with a gentle motion of his hand because there is more and he needs to say this. He needs Louis to know.

 

'And I... I was jealous too. Jealous of Sam, which is also stupid because I don't even know him and I don't really think that you still care about him. But he got all of this. He got the whole meeting the parents thing. He got a Louis who didn't hold back so he won't get hurt. And I wanted that, too, so badly. I still want that, but I swear that if you give me another chance I will be right there with you for every little step. I won't push you again. I promise.' Harry takes a big breath. 'Okay, I'm done now.'

 

Louis looks kind of stunned. 'You love me?'

 

'I do,' Harry says earnestly. Because he does and has for a long time and it feels incredible to finally say it out loud. 'I love you so fucking much.'

 

And then Louis is pushing their coats aside to hug him. He hugs Harry so tight it almost hurts. And Harry hugs him right back. They stay like this for a while. Harry is vaguely aware of the young waitress approaching them carefully before she apparently changes her mind and veers to serve another table.

 

When they pull back Louis is smiling at him. It's a small smile but it's genuine. It makes Harry's heart flutter. 'Okay. It's my turn, yeah?' Louis starts while he's trying to brush away fresh tears from Harry's cheeks. Harry didn't even notice he started to cry. Louis rubs at his own eyes which look slightly red and watery.

 

Harry nods and takes Louis' smaller hands in his. He lets his fingertips run over the twenty-eight tattoo. Someday, hopefully, he will know what this number means to Louis.

 

'I am sorry too. Not for needing more time, but for not really telling you how I felt. I should have explained.' He interlocks his fingers with Harry's before he continues.

 

'Our fight... What you said really hurt me. And I know that you're sorry. I knew that you were sorry the minute you said it. It still hurt and I kind of needed to think because there was some truth in it too. So that's why I didn't answer your calls. I was angry and hurt, but I also needed to think.'

 

'Okay. Yeah, I get that.' Harry nods. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the waitress approaching them again.

 

'Can we have another minute?' He asks politely and she smiles and nods before walking away again.

 

'I called my mum today,' Louis says when Harry turns to look at him again.

 

'Oh?'

 

'Yeah.' He says and the crinkles around Louis' eyes appear again. 'I told her about you.'

 

'What? What did you tell her?' The butterflies in Harry's tummy are starting to flutter around.

 

'Everything really.' Louis shrugs and he's still smiling. 'About our first kiss. That you have the biggest heart... That you speak and giggle in your sleep,' He chuckles at that. 'That you're a giant dork. Let's see, what else? I told her about your social dimples and that your hair looks like Shirley Temple's only prettier and... um... and I told her that you make me happy.'

 

That's it. The butterflies are out of control again. 'What did she think?' Harry asks breathlessly.

 

'She thinks I should jump because you'll be there to catch me.'

 

'I will.' Harry says.

 

'I know. I know that now.'

 

Harry is smiling so hard his cheeks will probably be sore tomorrow. This is not what he expected from tonight. He feels so fucking happy he wants to hug every single person in the room. Especially Louis though. And kiss. He wants to kiss Louis.

 

So he does. The kiss is gentle and light. They're both smiling and still holding hands. It's perfect.

 

'Oh, and just for the record,' Louis says after their lips part, 'I love you too.'

 

Harry kisses him again. And again.

 

After some time Louis pulls away chuckling.

 

'I can’t believe I got stood up!' He says, laughing.

 

'What?' Harry asks because _what?_

 

'Um. So my sister Lottie kind of tricked me into going on this stupid blind date with her friend's brother. That's why I was here in the first place.' Realisation hits Harry and his eyes grow wide. Louis obviously mistakes it for something else. 'No no no. I'm so happy he didn't show up. I probably would have just stared creepily into my coffee and not have said a word the whole time.'

 

Harry bursts out laughing.

 

'What? Why are you laughing?' Louis asks confused.

 

'Because it's me. I'm your blind date.'

 

'You're what?'

 

And Harry tells him about Gemma and how she basically forced him to go on this stupid date because she thought that Harry and Louis were kind of made for each other – which turns out to be true – when all he wanted to do was stay in bed and listen to all the songs Louis wrote.

 

They stay like that on the sofa laughing so loud that some people turn their heads, hugging each other and kissing. The waitress doesn't try to take their order again. Or maybe she does but they don't notice. They're in their own perfect little bubble in the middle of a crowded café.

 

'Hey? Wanna get out of here? We could go to your place?' Harry suggests after some time.

 

'Sure.' Louis says not really looking at him. He's busy happily inspecting the size difference of their hands and kissing Harry's knuckles. 'Just so you're warned though Niall is not very happy with you. He was stress baking. A lot.'

 

'I can imagine.' Harry answers earnestly.

 

They put on their coats and walk out of the door into the dusk of a snowy London. The Christmas lights on the shops make the snow glow in the warm light. It's beautiful and for the first time this year Harry can't wait for Christmas to arrive.

 

Later in Louis' bed, after he successfully appeased a rather frightening Niall with cuddles and the promise to take care of Louis till the end of their days, Harry grabs his phone from his carelessly discarded jeans on the floor and settles back on Louis' chest.

 

When he's looking up Louis' eyes are closed and he's humming along to the song sounding quietly from the speakers. He looks peaceful and happy. Harry wished he had his camera with him to take a picture.

 

He unlocks his phone instead. There are at least a dozen of new messages from his sister asking how the date went and if Harry is in love yet. Harry snorts out a laugh.

 

'What is it, love?' Louis asks sleepily.

 

'Nothing. My sister is just a nosey smartass. She's asking how the date went.'

 

At that Louis cracks open his eyes. 'I bet Lottie is with her.' He sits up so abruptly that Harry's head lands on the mattress besides Louis' torso.

 

'Niaaaaallll!' he shouts so loud that Harry jumps.

 

A few seconds later a tired looking Niall wearing loose sweats, a tank top and his glasses appears in the door.

 

'What?' He asks, crossing his arms. 'I'm not buying you fuckers condoms. I know safety first and all that, but it's fucking freezing out there. I also feel like you are old enough to take care of the birth control on your own by now anyway. And also...'

 

Louis interrupts him impatiently. 'Niall, I don't need condoms. Do you still have the ring?'

 

Niall looks just as confused as Harry feels. 'Which ring?'

 

'The one you got from your Gran to give to the woman you'll marry someday...'

 

'Of course. Haven't met her yet, have I?' Niall answers warily. Harry is still confused.

 

'Great. Can we borrow it for a minute?' Louis asks, grinning and running his fingers down Harry's back lightly.

 

Niall's eyes grow to the size of golf balls. 'Whoa, man! You're not going to propose, right? Look guys, I'm happy you made up and you're made for each other and all that, but maybe you should dial it down a notch, yeah?' He looks kind of stressed and if Harry wasn't still so confused, he'd laugh.

 

'I need to call Jay.' Niall mumbles to himself searching the pockets of his sweats for his phone.

 

'No, man, chill for a minute, yeah? We just need it for like two minutes. It has nothing to do with a proposal. I would obviously tell you before I did that,' Louis says patiently.

 

' _Okay_.' Niall still looks sceptical, but he turns around and walk over to his room anyway.

 

'Why do we need that ring?' Harry asks when Niall is out of sight.

 

'You'll see, Curly.' Louis kisses Harry's nose.

 

A minute later Niall walks through the door again with a blue velvet ring box in his hand.

 

'You better not do something kinky with it. This is Horan family jewellery.' Louis takes the box from Niall's hand. 'But if you do,' Niall adds in an afterthought, 'please clean it afterwards.'

 

He doesn't wait for an answer or a thank you, just turns around and walks out of Louis' room again.

 

'What now?' Harry asks.

 

'Now we put that ring on. I hope it will fit your giant fingers.' Louis opens the box and takes out a beautiful golden ring with an imperial topaz. With a little effort the ring slides on Harry's ring finger – Niall's grandmother must have had big hands.

 

'Ready?' Louis asks

 

'Ready for what?' Harry replies because he still doesn't understand what Louis is intending with all this.

 

'Ready for our fake proposal selfie for our sisters?' Louis chuckles. 'I won't let them get away with their nosiness. Meddling harpies.'

 

 _Oh_. That's the plan. 'You're evil.' Harry laughs.

 

'And you look like an angel.' Louis grins tugging at one of Harry's loose curls.

 

'A match made in heaven, I'd say,' he adds.

 

They lay back down and Louis opens the camera of his iPhone. They both smile into the lens and Harry makes sure that the ring is on full display by cradling Louis' face with his left hand.

 

When the camera sound goes off Louis kisses him. They're both smiling into the kiss. Louis shows him the picture and it's probably the happiest they've both looked in a long time. If not forever.

 

Louis types out 'He said yes!!!' and sends the picture to his sister.

 

 _Someday,_ Harry thinks. Because they have all the time in the world.

 

Two minutes later, both Harry and Louis’ phones light up with calls from their respective sisters. Louis tosses them onto the floor and rolls over onto Harry with a laugh and kiss.

 


End file.
